“You said you accepted your punishment,” he mutters. “This is not accepting your punishment.”
“You turned it from something private to something very public. And why are you bringing up marriage all of a sudden?”
His weary eyes roll toward me. “You want to get married. I want to marry you. It seems rather logical, doesn’t it?”
“It seems like what your PR manager wants us to do.”
“We can literally sign the papers and tell no one. Screw PR.” Straightening, he says, “I want you, Mirabelle Peters. The end.”
I press my lips together and scan him. “You’re…very tired. This is probably lonely boy hysterics. Maybe I can set you up with someone? I think Leeann has a sweet granddaughter…”
He stares at me. He blinks his tired eyes. “Are you allergic to the idea that someone might like you for you and want you for you and be willing to do anything to prove that?”
As a matter of fact…I think I am. Because what if I settle into that feeling of being wanted and liked right before I lose it? I’ve been doing an awful lot of hoping lately. I’m sure to overcharge the account at this rate. Chest tight, I say, “I’m scared.” I look down at my hands. “What if I start liking you? What if I start liking you so much that I can’t stop, and the thought of being without you hurts me more than I can bear?”
He takes me by the shoulders, looks me in the eye, and says, “You would make me the happiest man alive. I might throw a party in your honor, invite no one, but still spend thirty thousand dollars on fireworks.”
He is so tired.
I open my mouth.
“I’ll rent a bouncy castle.”
I close my mouth.
“Please, Mirabelle. Don’t let fear rob me of the chance I have to make you mine.”
“You…could have last night. I was…pathetic.”
He drags one hand up from my shoulder to cup my face. “No, I couldn’t have. What could have happened last night wouldn’t have come anywhere close to what I mean when I say I want tomake you mine. You understand that, don’t you?”
I’d like to.
I think I’dreallylike to.
But all I can muster is, “May I have some time to think about it?”
Though pained, he pulls back, nods, and says, “Of course.”
Chapter 23
?
The council has spoken.
Mirabelle
“He’s a billionaire,” Leeann says, dipping a homemade biscotti I brought into her cup of tea.
Properly, I jut a lip and reach for a lemon bar. “I don’t really care about his money.”
“He also seemedverysweet when he was here for Halloween,” Beth offers, adding a cube of sugar to her teacup.
My face flushes at the mere mention of Halloween.
“Is he a good kisser?” Lynn asks.
I stammer, “I-I don’t know.”
